‘I think I’ve just had one already. Tell me I’m going to wake up soon.’
Lola raised her shoulders. ‘She has a habit of changing her mind.’
‘So do I. From right this minute. I’m not coming back. I’m not surgeon to the stars.’
‘She may ask to see you again. Soon. Like in five minutes.’
‘I’ll be busy. With patients who actually want my input and expertise. I have better things to do with my time than pander to hypochondriacal celebrities.’
But for some reason he couldn’t really understand, he followed Lola towards a truck dispensing snacks and drinks and waited until she’d ordered two English breakfast teas. Tea—the great soother of tempers, according to the Brits. No serial or costume drama was ever made where the mention of tea didn’t happen at least twice. He hated it.
Then, taking the tray of drinks, he let her lead the way to a marquee and a plastic table and chair set-up. Lola looked dejected while desperately trying not to appear so. ‘I’m so sorry, Jake. Can I call you Jake? Or do you prefer Dr Jake? Dr Lewis?’
‘Jake’s fine.’
‘She’s a bit temperamental, she’s spent her life telling people what to do. And they do it. Just like that.’ She clicked her fingers. ‘I’m guilty of doing it too—but, then, I get paid to. She’ll come round, you just have to let her calm down and think logically.’ She bit her bottom lip, gave a conciliatory smile that lit up her eyes and whispered, ‘She will, eventually.’
‘Whatever she pays you isn’t enough. Leave. Get another job.’ So it was curt, but damn...how could Lola let her boss talk to her like that?
The smile and the light vanished. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘It’s not healthy to be around self-obsessives. Actually, it’s really not worth it. Just because you want to be noticed, a career in Tinsel Town, right? She’s your ticket? Actress, right? Like all the others who come here because they want the bright lights. It’s not worth it, Lola. Find another job. That kind of person will suck you dry, drive you mad.’
Now Lola frowned, eyes wide. ‘And this is your business because...?’
Good question.
He didn’t usually make assumptions and feel the need to sort someone else’s life out. In fact, he usually steered as far away as possible from involving himself in anyone’s life. Particularly women’s. The only thing interfering had ever achieved was a damned headache, and sent out a message that he cared...or was interested...or wanted to commit. He wasn’t. He didn’t. ‘I’m just saying, there are better careers than being someone’s assistant or a Z-list actress. Most don’t get very far anyway, it’s only the top tiny percentage who can make a living at it. If you want my opinion—’
‘Actually, I don’t. But thanks for making my day a whole lot worse.’ She stared at the steam rising from her tea, then stirred two packets of sugar into her cup. Which was refreshing, because most women he knew in this city would rather have eaten dust than sugar. It was the new axis of evil...or something. She looked dejected, and there was a simmering behind her eyes that signalled danger.
There was also a cloud of coiled anger hanging over them and, if he was honest, it was probably due to him. He’d started off this whole debacle in a lousy mood and things had got worse from there. If she was right and Cameron did ask him to return, it would help if he smoothed things between them. Plus, he didn’t want word of this to get back to James, who was insistent that all patients be treated with kid gloves...and that was usually Jake’s mojo. The patient came first—always. But also...and this was the weirdest thing...he felt bad at adding to Lola’s troubles. He’d seen a glimpse of her smile and, strangely, he wanted it back again.
‘Lola—’
‘Oh? There’s more? Which part of me do you want to pick apart now? You’ve done my job and my pathetic-sounding future—how about you move on to my face or my body?’ The joy in her voice had been replaced with irritation. The happy bounce that had seemed to live in her bones—gone. Yes, she was pissed at him. Very. No one ever spoke to him in that tone, and there were flashes of gold sparking in her eyes now. It was...well, it was all very interesting. She leaned forward, waving her teaspoon at him. ‘You don’t know the first thing about me but somehow think you can storm in here and give me life advice?’
‘Er...’ He began to explain. ‘It’s—’
But she jumped right on in. ‘Well, seeing as we’re handing advice out so liberally today, let me give you some, Dr High and Mighty. I don’t care who you are or what qualifications you’ve got, you don’t get to condescend me as if I am worthless. And you don’t get to make assumptions about anything I do or who I am. Okay? I was trying to be nice to you because she can be a bit of a B-I-T-C-H. And I totally understand how you can be angry with her for being a diva too—and now I’ve said it and I promised myself I never would—because she is a very good actress and she can be thoughtful sometimes. Rarely, but it does happen.
‘I thought a cup of tea and a chat would help because in my experience they usually do, but you know what? Forget it. There are plenty of doctors in Los Angeles who would give their right arm to be here in this privileged position, doctors who care. Who want to help. Who are actually nice. So I’ll go phone one of them, shall I? I think we’re done here.’
And with that she scraped her chair in the gravel and stood. Her previously pale face was now a bright beetroot red. The sunny smile a mere figment of his memory. And to his chagrin, he realised Lola Bennett had done what no woman had ever done to Jake Lewis—she’d brought him to a point where he had to chase after her and grovel.
‘LOLA.’
God give me strength. Some days she really, really wanted to change her name. She hesitated on her path back to the trailer, slowed and then stopped, wishing her burning cheeks would cool down. The doctor may well be dashing and delicious to look at with his cropped dark hair and startling blue eyes, and so what if he had a body that the leading man on set would die for? Jake Lewis was a pompous jerk in a suit and she didn’t want him to think he’d got the upper hand.
But he was the only doctor here so she needed to be nice to him because finding another one might take another couple of hours. And she was pretty sure Cameron would change her mind, again, and insist on seeing a doctor before the day was out. So Lola was stuck between the two of them trying to find a happy place. ‘Yes? What now?’
Dr Lewis’s lips twitched at the corners, but he kept his distance. ‘You didn’t finish your tea.’
‘I don’t want it any more, thank you.’ She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, she really did, but it shone through regardless.
He stepped forward and beckoned to her. ‘But I’m told on good authority that it might help. And it’s going cold.’
‘So?’ She stuck her hands on her hips and waited for his apology.
‘So, they’re going to clear it away if we don’t go back.’ The jerk jerked his head towards the canteen seating area. Two forlorn cups sat on the empty table. And, God, she was parched. With all this running around she hadn’t had a chance for a drink in ages. Dr Lewis just carried on as if an apology was the furthest thing from his mind and that he hadn’t just insulted her every which way he liked. ‘Come on, come back and finish it before they take it away.’
But no way would she sit with him again until— ‘No, Jake, I’m waiting for an explanation.’
‘I see.’ The twitch at the mouth turned into a thin line as he pondered her words. He really was very lovely to look at—but, then, so was everyone in LA, even the set carpenters were beautiful and always screen-ready.